Behind the Lights

"Your voice carries." He says his body stretched out over my bed.
"Don't you have your own room?"
"I do."
"I have no idea why, because you're always in mine for some reason." I say turning toward my suitcase trying to will my heart to slow down.
"I have no reason to be in mine." I jump when I feel his hand creep over the towel around my waist, his much hotter, harder, body pressed against mine, his beard brushing against the edge of my jaw, his tanned skin pressed against my own.
"You have no reason to be in mine either." I purr controlling my emotions as best as possible.
"I beg to differ." His hand edges it's way to the fold of my towel.